Fifteen floors up inside a firm of lawyers, a young woman straddles the window sill.She’s wearing work: black striped suit, tied hair.It only takes seconds to be tipped off balance.Is she suffocated by a cloak of failure, strangled by memory, stalked by debt?Are pressures closing in around her?A shadow approaches from inside;she tenses as tightly as a drawn wire,then starts, shifts, lifts the other leg.

Far below, taxis nip in and out of the evening.Light fades as somewhere, not too far,someone who cares adds Burgundy to the boeuf bourguignon he thinks they’ll share.

Nicky Phillips grew up in Hertford and now lives in a village in East Herts. She qualified as a bilingual secretary in the seventies, since when her work has stretched from a High Commission on Trafalgar Square to an arable and beef farm/estate in Hertfordshire. She also works as a proofreader.

Nicky’s poems have been widely published in magazines, anthologies and online, including: Algebra of Owls; Brittle Star; Ink, Sweat & Tears; SOUTH; South Bank Poetry; Snakeskin; The Book of Love and Loss (Belgrave Press, 2014); Heart Shoots, an anthology in aid of Macmillan Cancer Support (Indigo Dreams Publishing, 2013).

In 2017 a poem of hers, “The nearly I hope will last a while longer” was nominated for the Best Single Poem category of the Forward Prizes.

KATHLEEN STRAFFORD​Originally from Ohio, USA, Kathleen graduated as MA from Leeds University, UK, in 2017. Published widely before her debut collection, by Panoply; Algebra of Owls; Clear Poetry; Fat Damsel; Tom and Stan Wick; The Interpreter’s House; Inspiring Futures; Butcher’s Dog; Cinnamon Press’ Reaching out; Ilkley Festival Anthology.Kathleen is also a painter and fine artist."As her cover art shows, she is a visual as well as verbal artist, and the themes of her poetry, and its style, consistently respond to and use images, seen and then reflected on. She takes as ekphrastic prompts not only painters and sculptors from among the canon (Picasso, Van Gogh, Rodin) but personal photographs and remembered snapshots of life. This synthesis of elevated high art and the minutiae of family histories reveals her as a highly observant poet, whose imagery finds that fine balance between rare and accessible."- Hannah Stone

Photo of Mom on the Beach 1950If Picasso were here he would paintthe roundness of your breasts refractingas though half in water the heatwould rise and blur dizzy views into beautiful angles He would name his work A Series of Revolutions in Broken LightKerouac jazzed by your rhinestone shadeswould take a piece of summer igniting words so inflammably purethey would spark a syncopated beatYou stare at the glint from the water as the horizon snips and burns hardIt’s the calm of a slower beauty leaving the day scattered where noises rearrangeand re-enter the voice of water listening you hear your own heart

If you look hard into the sand Momyou’ll see the imprints of my knees writingme into this poem securing my place near youIf you dig deeper you will find bloodstained stonesunborn children surrounding you like silent flowers.

Your hands belong to naked air & snapdragonswho will need your touch Soon you will wantan honest garden where you will weep for bruisedflowers you will feel the absence of the spacethey were drinking

If you had Picasso’s eyes or Kerouac’s tongueyou could keep the diamonds splashing to your feetBut how can you know what your reflection offerswhen the earth is content with its own imageand the only news is water?

Fenland ex pat poet living in Harrogate, North Yorkshire but his heart's still in the flatlands of East Anglia. Published widely in various anthologies including: Writers of East Anglia, Contemporary Yorkshire Poetry, Otley Word Feast anthologies. Also in Acumen, Envoi and online with Ink, Sweat and Tears. Recent publications include A Slow Stirring (Indigo Dreams, 2012) and BARD 132. Two of Ian's poems were placed 2nd and highly commended in the Brian Dempsey Memorial Competition 2017.

​Jesus clocks-in.Jesus came to labour with us, that must have been in the late seventieswhen the bombing thing was getting into its strideand walking to work was full of anxieties –it was almost a relief to clock-on.He was different, in a freaky kind of waynamed by the older workers because of his beard and long hairhe talked about London as though he had lived there all his lifeabout Marx and Brecht and the Rights of Mansmoked roll-ups, which was suspicious thenand told us about the time hitching in Lebanonthe guard at the border-post stroked his blond hairand wanted a blow-jobwhich made the older men nod and wink:he got on well with everyoneit was hard to guess his religiononly that he hated the USAand listened to bands we never heard of yetsquats and communes were foreign concepts to usmight as well have been Ohio or Vietnam:Why do you throw stones and petrol bombs? he asked,For fun, we shrugged, grinning sheepishly as though caught on a borderbetween what has always been for us, and what is new.

Trained as a mime artist and worked as a busker in Paris and Portugal. Spent 11 years in a Buddhist monastery in France. Now he lives in the Auvergne, France, with his children. Poems have been published in anthologies and journals, including: Acta Victoriana, The Antigonish Review, Cake, Crannog, Coffee House Poetry (online), Cyphers, Dream Catcher, The Journal, Morphrog, The Moth, Nimrod International, Obsessed With Pipework, Poetry Salzburg, Quiddity International, Sentinel Literary Quarterly and Wild Atlantic Words Anthology 2015. In 2015 Poetry Salzburg Pamphlet Series published his pamphlet 'Breaking Away.' His poetry has won awards and commendations in competitions including the Troubadour Poetry Competition 2016; the Segora Poetry Competition 2015, the Brian Dempsey Memorial Poetry Competition 2017and the Southport Writers' Circle Poetry Competition 2017.

10:37 AM

A middle-range ballistic missile was interceptedand destroyed while you washed your cupand glimpsed a wren through the kitchen window.

It was busy with twigs and knew exactly what to do. On the table a bowl of fruit: bananas, apples, kiwis--strangers awaiting your knife and tongue.

At 10:42 you opened the door and sniffed the airas might a cat before returning to its piece of meat.You sensed that something was wrong.

From the Curragh, Ireland, now living in Guildford, England.Was Ireland's first Poet in Residence in a secondary school and appeared on RTE with John Cooper Clarke and Paul Durcan.His poems have been published widely in anthologies and online magazines in Europe, England, the USA, Canada and India. He is host of 'The 1000 Monkeys', a regular monthly poetry event in Guildford. Four poetry collections published by Dempsey & Windle: 'Sifting Sound into Shape' (2012);' 'The Smell of Purple' (2013); 'Being Dragged Across the Carpet by the Cat' (2013) and 'Gerry Sweeney's Mammy' (2017)

An Acute Absence of Weathertomorrow arrived too lateto save youyou had become the past tenseno longer present at your own lifetime had abandoned youthe world turning its back on the sunstaring into the nighta darkness without starsthe far away barking of dogsa somewhere that's nowherewhere even the weathervanedoesn't know which way to turnthe acute absenceof weather.

WENDY FALLABorn and brought up in the Channel Islands, and lived as an adult on Sark for three years. Now based in Hampshire, she runs a farm and has seven dogs, most from rescue centres.

​Her degree in Creative Writing is from Winchester University. She writes prose and memoirs, as well as poetry.

ResilienceIf you want something done,ask a busy man.He’ll do it straight awayand to perfection, at the first attempt.A meal or bottle of favourite spirit in returnand a willingness to respondwith a smile when he asks youto sew on a button or hem his trousers.Remember back to a time when they had nothing,when the only thing to be shared was an embraceand a sympathetic ear.There is a great deal to be learned froma small isolated community under pressure:stoicism, resilience, determinationand an optimism that the dark days will surely pass.

PATRICK B. OSADA

Patrick B. Osada is an editor, writes reviews of poetry for magazines and is a member of the Management Team for SOUTH Poetry Magazine.

His first collection, Close to the Edge, was published in 1996 and won the prestigious ROSEMARY ARTHUR AWARD. He has published four collections, with a fifth, CHANGES, published by D & W Publishing in January 2017.

Patrick’s work has been widely published in magazines, anthologies and on the internet..

FIONA SINCLAIR

Fiona Sinclair lives in a village in Kent with her husband Kim and an imaginary dog.

She is the editor of the on-line poetry magazine Message in Bottle. Fiona‘s work has been published in numerous magazines. A TALENT FOR HATS is her sixth collection. Fiona reviews poetry and also art exhibitions, specifically at Turner Contemporary, Margate. She currently has a crush on Grayson Perry.

Fiona is attracted to the overlooked, even peculiar aspectsof modern life. in this short collection she takes as her themethe “second skins” that we put on in order to cope or hidefrom issues of identity, Her knack for mixing slang and every-day language with a more conventional poetic turn of phrase,makes these poems sparkle.

From A TALENT FOR HATS (published by D&W Publishing in April 2017:

Banker

Drowning in dress choice, she wants noMarilyn Look at me entrance, rathersomething to carry her through dry-mouthed solo arrival.Pulls out sale dregs number that on herlives up to its designer label promise,but flashbacks; blown out by friend last minute,folk night that anesthetised her rock and roll soul.restraining yawns like Tourette’s outbursts at dull dinner.Strokes with little-girl longing new straplessbut time saved up from work plus son sleepover windfallcannot be gambled on untried garment.Ponders impulse buy plain-Jane shiftthen relives: shoes kicked off dancing until all hours;gold strike of finding new friends at a 50th;child’s fizzy laughter uncorked in a comedy club;so slips on the dress that promises an evening well spent…

KYLE MCHALE

Kyle McHale is originally from the suburbs of Washington D.C. in Maryland. He currently lives and works in Surrey, England. AND NO BIRDS SING is his first published collection of poems, though he has been reading and writing poetry for over a decade.

Kyle cites Robert Frost and John Keats among the poets who have influenced his writing. Kyle writes about nature and 'how we find solace in the natural world when relationships let us down for whatever reason...' [Lisa Kelly]

From AND NO BIRDS SING (Published by D&W Publishing in May 2017):

Oak Leaves

Oak leaves are falling gently,hitting glass, fluttering off the rooflike paper skipping alonga river, like the deliberateway we wrap presents,marked, like each leafwith our unique printsand best intentions.

All of it a gift, bundlesof them raked into pilesfor us to dive into,throw in the air,remember what youthsmelled like after the cuttingof the hay in late summer,

ALEXANDRA DAVIS

Alexandra Davis lives in Suffolk with her husband and four sons and teaches English. Her poems have appeared in Agenda, Artemis and Emma Press anthologies.​Her poem Stag won the Brian Dempsey Prize in 2017.SPROUTS is Alexandra's first published pamphlet. The title poem was commended in the Back Room Poets Open Competition in 2015 and Loss was commended by Andrew MacMillan in the Ver Poetry Open Competition in 2016Web: www.alexandrapoet.wordpress.co.uk.

​From SPROUTS (September 2017):

Stag

I need to make one thing clear:I didn’t see the stag. My husband did.He’d been running; he came through the door,eyes alight; stood taller in the kitchen,his legs rooted wide, to tell us both;his joy so urgent. Son and I sat, raptby the boy in his voice, the wild lifein his hands and his face as he drew usa picture of man and stag who had metin the field this bright autumn morning.He lifted his arms in revelation, the size!The size of his antlers! The span! The height!The throat on him! He was praising the moment,too big for the kitchen, and we praised it too,for the gift of the stag now belonged to us all –that glimpse of the creature briefly rewilded;its beauty and might to be breathed, becomingbefore us a blur of bristles and musk.

SCOTT ELDER

Scott Elder writes:​'I was born in California and moved around with my family every two years or so until leaving our moving home at seventeen. Writing came in trickle during my early twenties while living in Paris. It must have been a sort of unconscious necessity because no particular will or ambition was involved. I didn't read poetry and lived from day to day as a street musician. However, I kept a notebook and came to feel that something there was worth cultivating. Years later the passion came by itself — sort of like falling in love when one is for nothing in the affair. In between time I worked as a mime artist in France and Portugal before taking vows and spending 12 years in a Buddhist hermitage in France. Now ‘home’ is in Auvergne with my three young children.'

Scott's first collection, 'Breaking Away' was published by Saltzburg Poetry Pamphlets Series in 2015. He has had poems published and commended in numerous poetry anthologies and competitions. PART OF THE DARK is his first full collection.

From PART OF THE DARK (in reference to the painting by Najlen Sanchez on the cover of the first edition published by D&W Publishing, September 2017)

Portrait

Let's run through it again.Complexion—geisha white.

Cheeks—deep pink (too deep).Hands—closed petals in her lap.

The young lady is sitting in...call it an elm.

Two blood-red horses share her limb.They're screamingly small and seem to be blind.

Nothing will come of this, she muttered in Finnish.Don't worry, he whispered, apart from the pink

all is utterly perfect. She looked aside.The sky wilted for an instant.

RAY POOL

Ray Pool describes himself as 'a semi-retired pianist and self-confessed polymath'. He has had a long career in music as an entertainer on the jazz scene and in a variety of milieus. He now lives in Farnham, Surrey, and writes about the subjects that inspire him: music, memories of his life as an entertainer, the history of the railways and people-watching. He has a sharp ear for dialogue which enables him to write - and read - poems in others' voices. He can do a mean impression of Alan Bennett. With their nostalgic, reminiscent tone and dry humour his poems often remind us of John Betjeman's,

A HISTORY NAILED DOWN (published in May 2017) is Ray Pool's first collection. Here is the poem that contains its title:

Double Stroke

The double stroke had placed himin the best handsand we met againten years down the line.

A deeply disruptive manuneasy with his lifeparted from his wife.I saw him in the home.

His compulsion for slow suicidehad reduced his framehis hair just a wisp,but off the drink he’d regainedan interest in sportviewed en masse in the loungein the static massif of wheelchairsgathered round.

I spoke fondly of our shared past,A smile played on his lips –old jokes we’d sharedwith stings in their tales

Thanks, Ray was all he could say.

My visit made me feel the weight of duty lift.Into fantastic fresh air I went,a history nailed down inside my head.

WANDA BARFORD

Wanda Barfordwas born in Milan. In 1939 her family emigrated to Southern Rhodesia to escape anti-Jewish persecution. She later studied music at the Royal Academy of Music, London, and married an Englishman. Flambard Press (1990 - 2012) published five full collections of Wanda's poems and in 2017 D&W published her sixth, SHALL HAVE TO STOP NOW, which is based on imaginative letter-poems, as a pamphlet.

Here is a poem from SHALL HAVE TO STOP NOW:

From Miriam to her Aunt in BrooklynDear Aunt Rebecca,You’ve heard, maybe, we’re sailing on the Exodusto Haifa; there are about 2000 of us,survivors from those desperate days and nightmare nights.

We left Marseille, in France, four days agoand every time I think of Haifa and Carmelmy heart misses a beat, leaps up with joy.Now I can see Mount Carmel gleaming in the sun,I feel so moved that tears run down my cheeks…But what is this? The sound of gunfire fills the air!The ship is turning round…goodbye most Holy Land!We will be dropped in Cyprus so they say.The British own these parts, they’ll do just as they please.

​Here is one of Timothy Adès' lippogrammic translations of Shakespeare's Sonnets, from LOVING BY WILL which we published in 2016 with a second edition in February 2017: ​Sonnet 18(in words without 'e'):

Comparing you with a day probably in July or August

I’ll put you up against a balmy day…You win on looks. Not cold, and not too warm.Winds cut up rough with darling buds of May;a two-month contract can’t supply much balm.Dog-days in August turn to burning hot,or may contrarily grow all too dim;and all fair fowls fall foul of you-know-what,thrown by bad luck, or sunspots, out of trim.But your hot days will last and last and last,maintaining tiptop form with full control;nor shall morticians brag of shadows castacross your path. My words shall grow your soul.

Mankind may gasp and gawp, unstoppably: I sign this gift, your immortality.

TRISHA BROOMFIELD

Trisha Broomfieldwrites poetry, flash fiction, short stories and unfinished crime novels. Her early influences include the Liverpool poets, Ted Hughes and Thomas Hardy. She creates ceramic figures which threaten to take over the house, produces bizarre drawings, which she sells as cards, and has recently taken up life drawing.

​Trisha was born in Lincolnshire and lived in Australia as a child, travelling with her family by boat through the Suez Canal to and from Down Under. Now she lives in Surrey with her husband and shares an irascible cat. Some of her poems have been published in the Welsh literary magazine Roundyhouse. Her poems were highly commended in the Brian Dempsey Memorial Competition 2017 and two were published in the anthology, Poems to Keep.

Here is the title poem from Trisha's first pamphlet of poetry, which we published in 2016.

The Equator and other Disappointments

They told me if I watched the water as we crossed the Equator It wouldFlow the opposite wayDown the plughole but it didn’t They told me if I was good when I had my tonsils out I could have ice creamBut they brought me junketHave you any idea how that tastes? They told me if I ate the skin from the fishI would be brainyReallyThey told me if I ate all the crusts from my toast I would have curly hair And if I finished my supperthere would be no starving children in the world

RICHARD SELLWOOD

Richard Sellwood lives in Surrey. He won the Dempsey & Windle Poetry Competition in 2016 and had poems highly commended in the Brian Dempsey Memorial Prize competition in 2017 and published in the anthology, POEMS TO KEEP.

Richard has been reading poetry by John Burnside, Alice Oswald, Jorie Graham and Basil Bunting this year. He is currently working on a second fantasy novel, set in the Bronze Age.

Here is one of the poems from his pamphlet, THOR'S LIGHT, which Dempsey & Windle published in 2016.​

Michaelmas

Elegylight crossed the fieldsdawngolden reflecting likestained glass on the corn.

Out of its pena stubble-gooseis Michael's sacrifice,

gleaning his mortalityfrom the seeds he peckedjust a moment past;

husks like discarded shellsin this sundying moment,lay scattered in the yard,